


Can We Fly Away

by CanWeFlyAwxy



Category: Harry Potter - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Death, Depression, I'm so sorry, Suicide, i don't even know what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 06:53:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanWeFlyAwxy/pseuds/CanWeFlyAwxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no 'we', not ever again. Because 'we' was now 'I', and he doesn't think that he can live with that. So he runs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can We Fly Away

He doesn't remember the last time that he cried so hard. Because he doesn't think that there has ever been a time where he cried. Because he always had his other half next to him to comfort him, to protect him from the world and make him smile.  
        But not anymore. Because that all has changed. There was no 'we', not anymore, not ever again. So what does he do? He runs.  
        He had no idea what to do, how to cope with his own mind because he doesn't have anyone to help him and he just feels _**so alone** a_nd he just _**doesn't know what to do .**_  
        (Because _how can you defeat a monster when that monster is you_?)  
        His mom's been calling, blowing up his answering machine. His dad writes non stop, past letters were strewn across the room carelessly and he doesn't remember a time in where there wasn't a tapping at his flat.  
        But he doesn't answer, he _can't_. He can't deal with their pity, with them begging him to come home because they just don't understand. They never will, because, yes, they lost a son, but he lost his _other half_. His siblings lost a brother but he lost half of his heart and half of his soul and now he's losing all of his mind (and it sucks it just suck _suck **SUCKS**_ ).  
        He doesn't know how to get it all out so he does something he was never really good at. He writes.  
He clears his table and he clears his mind, pressing the quill to the parchment, the black ink is seeping through the paper (his mind itches, he can feel the insanity creeping in to his brain but he can't give in; he _won't._ not yet. _~~Not yet~~_ ) and it's probably staining the table but he doesn't care. He moves it along the paper before it can dry, and he tries to put together the words in his brain like the pieces in a puzzle.  
        But it's not working because there's _so many words,_ there's _ **too many words**. _ And the voices are screaming at him, but he's not listening.  
        (This first, just please, this first)  
        He writes to his third oldest brother first.  
        [You were supposed to save him,] but that's not what he wants to say. [You were supposed to save _us_ , why didn't you save us?]  
        He tries alcohol to sooth his pain and after the first bottle and a half, he wants to go home but he can't because there _is no home anymore, not without him._  
        He can feel the tears brimming his eyes but he wont let them fall because he won't give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry. He's not going down like this.  
        He writes to his mom and dad next.  
        (His mind says no, so does his heart but his hand doesn't listen so the words in his brain are put on the paper, but it's still not enough.  
        [I'm sorry, I love you. _~~I hate you, I bloody hate you~~_.] But he doesn't hate them, he never would. But, then again, they gave ~~them~~ him life and what would be worse, dying or never being born? If you asked him a year ago, he would have said dying. But now (he just doesn't know. He hates not bloody knowing because _why did you leave me? We were supposed to be forever. Why?_ ) He taste bile in the back of his throat because he's writing those words and by writing them he feels numb but they're lies but it also feels so good to say them  
        His sister comes next because she's his only hope for little nieces and nephews {because his brothers are all uglier than a squirell made into road kill} and he wants her to know that he loves her and he doesn't know how to say it and _god damn it._  
        [I tried, I tried to damn hard but I just can't and I am so bloody sorry.]  
        He doesn't think he can write anymore because he can't do anything fucking right and he takes a long drink of whatever the hell is in his glass (and it tastes like venom but it also tastes so good).  
        He's done, now, the last three are to his other siblings and he feels like writing a letter to the source of the problem because _if you had just died then this all wouldn't have happened_ but he can't say that because deep down he knows it wasn't his fault.  
        So the last bit he writes is to himself for where ever he is going and it's short and sweet and to the point, and he can finally sleep and if he's lucky he won't wake up.  
        ** _(Run, boy, run -this world wasn't made for you-)_**  
        But he also knows that he will (wake up, that is), so he mixes a ~~lot~~ little bit of this and that to help him sleep and finally he does, sleep comes quicker than usual and in his dream he is there and then he is running towards his other half with open arms.  
        And his pain finally stops [and so does his heart, but that's a small price to pay for this bliss] and his brother is talking to him, his voice still holds the remains of the laughter that had eventually became his downfall. And although he can see the tears that shine in his brother's eyes, his twin's lips part and the most beautiful sound he has ever heard comes out.  
        "Welcome back, Georgie. Did ya miss me?"  
         _[You have no idea, Freddie. No idea.]_


End file.
